


In Season

by ThisIsTheDungeonThatNeverEnds



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Angst, Barebacking, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, Gang Rape, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Outdoor Sex, Rape, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sex Pollen, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Victim Blaming, Whump, dubcon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-07 06:39:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15902907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisIsTheDungeonThatNeverEnds/pseuds/ThisIsTheDungeonThatNeverEnds
Summary: No good deed goes unpunished when Gladio goes after a missing supply truck alone.  In the Vesperpool.  During marlboro mating season. Only after he's rescued does the real danger present itself. Now a pariah in the eyes of the Cleigne hunters and a failure in his own eyes, Gladio must find away to move forward.





	1. Prologue

Three days after the encounter, Gladio sits by a campfire at a haven on Ravatogh Trail. He is still weak from the after effects of the toxin… and what that toxin had brought on.

Memories flood his mind and he hangs his head regretfully. He knows thoughts of “how could I have been so stupid” and “I should have been stronger” will harm him more than help him, but that doesn’t mean he can stop them from invading every other waking thought. Despite the shame of what he knows awaits him once he reaches civilization, Gladio accepts that, eventually, he will have to leave camp and go back out into the disastrous world and resume his duties as a hunter.

He looks out at the rising sun, muted by dark clouds and the smoke from the mountain. It’s technically noon, and Gladio knows that by five o’clock, it will disappear again. The days are growing drastically shorter, and he knows better than anyone that soon they will be gone entirely.

He’s never felt more alone.

Gladio gathers his supplies, swallowing a lump of dread rising in his throat. He’s not fully recovered yet, not by a long shot, but feels useless hiding in his self pity at camp. He’d always favored the direct approach after all, and he saw no easier option for doing what must be done than to simply do it, come what may. He knows he has a long trip ahead of him from Ravatogh Trail to Lestallum so the sooner he sets out, he reasons, the better. He straps his bags to the saddle and mounts his bird (he thinks he’ll never be able to thank Cor enough for retrieving her)

Gladio does what he’s always done and pushes his fears and apprehensions down, burying them in what he knows to be his duty: protect the people of Eos in the name of his King until the day his King returns.

The ride is rough, bumpy, and terribly painful. Each step the bird takes sends shooting pains through his body. He has to take the rockiest areas slowly and stop every so often just to breath and wipe the tears from his eyes.

It’s two straight days before he reaches Lestallum.


	2. Chapter 2

_(Four days earlier)_

Every hunter in Cleigne told Gladio going after that stranded delivery caravan was a suicide mission. It was marlboro mating season, meaning the already highly dangerous creatures would be out in droves and highly territorial, and the hunters escorting the supplies had last reported in near the Vesperpool. But Gladio saw no choice. The refugees in Lestallum were hungry, and the wheat and rice on those trucks could tide the growing population over until construction on the aquaponics systems could be completed.

He begged every hunter he could find to help him, but they all seemed resigned to the belief that the provisions were lost and the drivers were dead. Even Dave, loath as he was to say it, told Gladio to let it go and collect the tags at the end of the week when the mating circles dispersed.

He couldn’t ask his Crownsguard comrades for help either. Ignis was nowhere near up to such a dangerous mission yet, Prompto was with a supply retrieval team in Insomnia, Monica was heading up an already short-staffed housing coordination team, and Cor wasn’t answering his phone (which was worrying by itself.)

It was almost like the Astrals themselves were telling Gladio to steer clear of the Vesperpool.

He should have listened.

Gladio left his chocobo at the haven by the Vesperpool, just a short walk from what was once one of Noct’s favorite fishing spots. Ignoring the pang of guilt at the thought of Noctis, he set out on his task. He hiked along the narrow road in search of any sign of the supply trucks.

His first indication that it was time to abort the mission should have been how early quiet it was. Not a bird or bug could be heard, not even the rumbling of deamons emerging from the ground. If even the nastiest of deamons were staying away, Gladio wondered, then what business did he have there?

Business to recover supplies to feed the hungry refugees, he argued into his own thoughts, and continued onward.

His second indication that it was in his best interest to get as far away from the waterfront as possible was the smell, which was unlike anything Gladio had ever smelled before. It was a strong, sweet smell, but it was a sickening kind of sweet with a pungent, rotten layer that left a putrid taste in Gladio’s mouth.

By the time Gladio reached the southernmost tip of the lake, his cloths were soaked through from the rain and swampy waters he’d been trekking through for hours. Finally he saw something that made him hopeful: a truck, or what was left of one, halfway submerged in mud and slimy water. Gladio stepped carefully around the sharp spiked rocks that surrounded the edge of the lake.

“How the Hell did that truck end up all the way out here?” Gladio wondered aloud, grumbling as he swatted tree branches out of his face.

No sooner did Gladio receive his answer than he sincerely wished he hadn’t.

The ground shook with the roars of at least a half dozen enormous marlboros, none of which Gladio had ever seen due to the near total darkness. Before he could even turn to run, he found himself surrounded. Tentacles swiped at him from every direction, missing him by what could only be divine intervention, but causing waves strong enough to knock him over. He landed face first in the murky water, swallowing mud, algae, and gods know what else. He coughed, spat, and struggled to his feet.

He drew the Genji Blade (that was strapped to his back due to Noct’s absence rendering the armiger inaccessible) and swung blindly, muddy water stinging his eyes making it difficult to see. He blinked rapidly in attempt to clean his eyes. Once he could finally see again, the fight truly began. His swung went from erratic and desperate to purposeful and controlled, each one slicing through multiple tentacles and causing a rain of green-black blood and smiley, reeking flesh; each slice drawing ear-splitting screeches from the horrid creatures.

The sickly sweet smell that had caught Gladio’s attention before suddenly became tremendously stronger, overwhelming his senses and causing him to double over and vomit. A thick green miasma filled the air, but this was different from anything he had experienced before while fighting these creatures. Where typical marlboro gas was a dark, mossy, brown-tinted green, this was much brighter and vibrant, almost florescent. It caught the light from his small flashlight pin and glistened in a way that reminded him of the emerald gemstones he and his three friends were tasked with collecting for that sleazy reporter Dino back in Galdin Que.

Gladio no longer felt sick. He only felt hot and dizzy. He could tell the gas hadn’t confused him though, as he could clearly tell which direction dry land was, namely which direction he needed to escape to. He knew that if he left now the food would never reach Lestallum, but then, Gladio reasoned begrudgingly, neither would he if he stuck around much longer.

The hunters had been right about the Vesperpool. This fools errand of a retrieval mission had been doomed from the start.

Gladio staggers towards the waterfront, the heat draining him and making his limbs shaky and weak. He wishes he could just lay down in the cool water, and it takes all of his willpower not to do so. He knows that’s exactly what they want him to do. Lay down; become easy prey.

Lay down…

Over the roaring, shrieking, and splashing, Gladio was vaguely aware of someone calling his name. He thought it might just be confusion belatedly setting in, but he wondered if someone may really have been stupid enough to chase after him. Just as he reached dry land, he collapsed between two spiked rocks. He heard his name again and saw to white-blue lights growing brighter.

“GLADIO!”

“Over here!” he shouted to whoever it was.

The voices grew closer. They were familiar, and that made him feel safe enough to relax. Relaxation may not have been a good thing, because as soon as the blurry images of Cor and Dave’s faces came into full view, he lost consciousness.

Gladio awoke back at the haven to the hushed voices of his two rescuers.

“….caught in the toxin, we know what that means,” Dave said.

“I’ve seen the effects of the marlbro mating pheromone once before. I never though I would witness such a thing again.”

“It’s gonna have to be us, you know that, right? To… you know? Take care of him.”

“There are only two other men in all of Eos I would trust with such a delicate matter, and neither of them can be reached in time.”

In time for what, Gladio wondered, but when he tried to vocalize the question, all that came out was an embarrassing moan.

“He’s awake,” Dave said and knelt down beside Gladio, who was lying on top of a sleeping bag.

“Dave…” Gladio groaned. He reached out to him like his hand was moving on its own. When his hand came to rest on Dave’s arm, the older hunters skin felt hot. Not feverishly hot or in any negative way, but… it was not a sensation Gladio was used to. The heat from Dave’s body felt… strangely good. _Very_ good in fact. So good that he couldn’t resist the urge to touch him more.

“Dave,” Gladio repeated, but this time his voice was more breathy. He didn’t recognize his oven voice, and it worried him. What worried him more was that he couldn’t control his body either. His hand seemed to move on its own volition up Dave’s arm to grip his bicep.

Dave smiled nervously down at Gladio. “You’re gonna be alright. Cor and I’ll take good care of you.”

Gladio knew something was terribly wrong with him, because the prospect of Dave and Cor “taking care of him” made Gladio _hard_. _Painfully_ hard. Once again his body acted on his own. He grabbed Dave’s hand and shoved it down the front of his pants, holding tightly when Dave tried to pull his hand away. Any attempt Gladio made to say “I’m sorry” came out as “I’m hard,” or “I want you,”

“Gladiolus!”

Gladio heard his full name called and looked up to see Cor towering over him.

“Cor… please… want… need you...” he panted desperately.

“Listen to me Gladio.”

Gladio _wanted_ to listen. He wanted to know why he was suddenly a prisoner inside of his own sex-crazed body. But Gladio’s _body_ didn’t care. He released Dave’s hand and, with new-found energy fueled by desire alone, sat up on his knees and reached for Cor’s belt. The older man stopped him, placing the palm of one hand firmly against Gladio’s forehead and managing to capture both of Gladio’s hands with the other.

“Listen to me,” Cor repeated. “Dave and I both know very well that you can’t control what you’re doing. We know your mind is intact, but you’re powerless to stop the things you do and say. We know you don’t actually want to have sex with us. If I’m wrong about that we can discuss the matter after the pheromones have released their hold on you. You took a direct hit and were fully engulfed. At that dosage, it may take several days to clear, and to the extent of my knowledge there are no curatives that would be effective in this case. I trust you understand what I’m telling you.”

Gladio understood. He wanted so badly to express his understanding, but the only words he could manage were more pleas for Cor and Dave to touch him. There was one thing, though, that Gladio was relieved he could _not_ express. Fear. He was terrified of being out of control of his body for as long as Cor warned he could be, terrified of how it could effect his relationship with the two men if they really _did_ end up having sex, terrified of being completely defenseless while the pheromones ran their course.

But Gladio trusted them both. That made him feel a bit safer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah, the chapters are going to jump back and forth...

The outlook in Lestallum that had once been filled with gardens and vendors was now home to at least a hundred refugees in makeshift shelters crafted from tarps, tents, pallets, broken cars, old vender stalls, and anything else the people who had suddenly found themselves homeless could scrape together. Gladio’s heart breaks seeing the children with smiles on their faces at seeing a chocobo up close, many probably for the first time, despite the fact that they are all probably hungry.

He’d let them down. He’d failed.

He doesn’t let his shame show, though. He returns their warm smiles and waives as he passes by.

He finds a small area devoid of campers on the edge of the outlook to park his chocobo and dismounts. No sooner do his feet touch the ground then he is greeted by two small, smiling faces. A boy and a girl who cant be older than ten stand directly behind the bird.

“Excuse me, Mister Hunter, sir?” the girl asks, shyly averting her eyes, “May we please pet your chocobo?”

Gladio sees a woman, presumably the children’s mother, next to the wilted garden. He gives her an inquisitive look, to which she smiles and nods.

“You know,” Gladio says with a genuine smile, the children’s youthful enthusiasm giving life to some of the deadness inside of him, “I was just thinking that I could use someone to keep an eye on my girl while I check in with some other hunters. Think you can hang around here for an hour or two?”

Both children nod. Gladio reaches into his pocket for a handful of gil. “I’ll even pay you to birdsit, how’s that sound.”

Their eyes go wide and sparkle with excitement. Gladio divides the money equally between the two and gives them each a gentle pat on the head. “Don’t spend it all in one place now, you hear?”

The children nod. “Thank you!” they chime in unison.

Gladio walks away, knowing his chocobo is in good hands. He passes by the woman, who offers up a sad smile. “Thank you,” she whispers. Gladio nods, but has nothing to say.

At least he can do one small thing for one small family. But it will never be enough.

The crowded streets of Lestallum are hotter than ever before and Gladio begins to sweat after only a few minutes. He hasn’t encountered anyone he recognizes from… from what happened at the Ravatogh Outpost. Yet. But he catches a few people casting sidelong glances his way. Did they know what happened? Or did they just recognize him from somewhere else? Gladio suspects the worst but tells himself he’ll never know for sure.

He DOES know for sure the instant he approaches the Levile. No longer an upscale hotel, the Levile is now a refugee recourse center/hospital. Most of the hunters based in the city commonly gather in the pavilion outside. There are many there when Gladio arrives. Some of them…

Some of them he knows right away.

They are in their own group, near the ally away from the main crowd. Four of them, three men and a woman, instantly stare him down. Gladio stares back, making no effort to mask his contempt. Apparently though, Gladio is not worth their time anymore. They snicker and whisper to each other and proceed to ignore him.

Gladio likes it better that way.

He breaths a sigh of relief that there is no line in the lobby.

“I just need some pain killers,” Gladio says to the woman at the desk.

The woman shakes her head with a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry, Sir. But if you’re able to stand, well, what little medication we have has to be rationed.”

Gladio is confused. “I thought generic meds just got delivered? A good friend of mine was on that supply run.”

“I’m… sorry to hear that,” she says slowly, “but last I heard that team was stranded at the chocobo ranch. There’s...” she hesitates… “no lights there anymore. We’re communicating with hunters in that area, but the Cleigne units can’t spare any to send all the way to Duscae and every freelancer I can contact is days out on another missions.”

“I’m a freelancer.”

“Yes, and you’re a freelancer who’s obviously injured, otherwise you wouldn’t be here for medicine,” she reminds him. “Even if you weren’t, a rescue and recovery mission like that isn’t one I would recommend tackling alone.”

Gladio leans across the counter and lowers his voice. “Listen to me. I know I thing or two about impossible missions, alright?”

“So that means you’re going on another one, then?”

Gladio knows that voice, would know it anywhere and a hundred years from now. He turns around.

“Never expected you’d throw something like that in my face, Iggy.”

Ignis somehow manages to look as though he is staring Gladio down. “That was not my intention, Gladio. My intention was only to be brutally honest. Though love, if you will.”

“And if I won’t?”

“Then I’ll make you for your own good. You didn’t listen before, and while your determination was admirable, it was also needlessly reckless. You almost died in the Vesperpool and you risked Cor and Dave’s lives on top of that.” Ignis sighs, steps in closer to Gladio and lowers his voice. “I know you’re concerned for Prompto and the team he’s with. But it won’t do either of you any good for you to get yourself killed. Have faith in the Duscae hunters. Have faith in Prompto. And for the love of Eos, Gladiolus, learn from your mistakes. _Please_. At the absolute least, wait until you’ve fully recovered to rush headlong into danger.”

Ignis steps closer still. They are nearly touching now. Ignis whispers, “I know what happened at the Ravatogh Outpost.”

Gladio steps back. His brow is furrowed and the corner of his mouth is turned up in a snarl. He can feel his face growing hot. “I don’t need your damn pity!”

“I’m not offering you pity. I’m offering you sound advice.”

“What advice?!” Gladio shouts. “That when someone says something’s impossible, I should just give up? That it’s not worth the risk when it comes to saving lives? That because I’ve got a failure on my record now, I can’t still do my job, that I can’t still help salvage a few scraps of this gods-forsaken planet? Ignis, it’s up to us! You, me, Prompto, Cor, Monica, Dustin, and even Iris someday if it comes to that, we’re the last line of defense for Eos. It’s our job to make sure Noct has a world left to save and a kingdom left to rule when he comes back. So if you’re telling me I should give up fighting because of a couple of swamp monsters and a few crooked hunters, then maybe you _should_ have ‘bowed out!’”

If it wasn’t for the subtle tightening of Ignis’ jaw, Gladio would never have known Ignis had even been phased by the harsh words. Harsh words that, as soon as they leave his mouth, Gladio instantly regrets.

“Ignis, I-”

“You were speaking in haste,” Ignis interrupts. “I know you didn’t mean that. So to answer your question: no. I don’t expect you to give up on any seemingly impossible task. I’m not asking you to never take risks and I’m certainty not asking you to allow the...” Ignis pauses briefly, “the recent incident to force you out of commission. What I am asking of you is to admit when you’re outmatched, _calculate_ your risks, and properly recover from your injuries before you go acquiring new ones.”

Admit when you’re outmatched, Gladio thought. Easier said than done for someone who had been raised from a time before he could walk to let nothing short of death stand between him and his duty. Should death come, that was _part_ of his duty, and to deny such would be a dishonor to his father’s memory. Add to all of that the fact that he’s been humiliated across the region and soon, trusting word of mouth, the greater part of Lucis, Gladio had a lot to make up for.

Then again, Noctis would return someday, and what good would he be to his King dead?

“I…” Gladio says after a few moments of contemplation, “I don’t know how to make that call. Especially not after what happened.”

“Your first order of business should be recovery. Everything else can wait for now.”

“On that note...”

Gladio spun around to face the attendant who Gladio had all but forgotten existed.

“I’m sorry, I was literally incapable of not hearing you two.”

“It’s my fault,” Gladio offered, “I was the one causing a scene in your lobby.”

“It’s okay. But Ignis is right, you need rest.” The woman rummages through a drawer next to her and produces a key. “If you don’t mind sharing a room with a pregnant woman, there’s a bed for you here.” She holds out the key, which Gladio takes with a gracious nod. “Just check in with a nurse upstairs. You..” she hesitates and grinned sheepishly, “may also want to take a bath and have your cloths washed. The nurse will give you something to sleep in.”

“I appreciate it,” Gladio says sincerely. “Thank you.”

Before heading to the room, Gladio turns back to Ignis, “I’m sorry about what I said.”

“Already forgiven,” Ignis assures him.

“One more thing. By the ledge at the outlook, I payed some kids to keep an eye on my chocobo. You wouldn’t mind checking in on them in an hour or so, would you?”

“Of course not. I’ll ensure your bird is taken care of.”

“Thanks, Iggy. For, uh. For everything.”

“You’re quite welcome, Gladio. Now take care and rest up. If you need anything, you know where to find me.”

As Gladio ascends the stairs, he can hear Ignis and the attendant talking in hushed tones. They must think he’s out of earshot, but he can just here them.

“If I would have known your friend was the one who got caught in the mating circle, I would have just given him the medicine,” the woman says. “I still can’t believe the people we trust to keep us safe would do something like that to him.”

Ignis nods. “Sometimes the most dangerous monsters a hunter faces in the field are humans themselves.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here there finally be smut! We haven’t gotten to the BAD part yet, though. Cor and Dave are NOT the bad guys in this fic...

“Now,” Cor continued, “About your… urges.”

Yeah about those, Gladio thought. He pulled his hands free of Cor’s grasp. Cor released his forehead in order to Grip one of Gladio’s wrists in each hand.

“Dave,” Cor requested, “A little help please?”

Dave knelt behind Gladio and hooked his elbows with Gladio’s, pulling his arms behind his back. Gladio pressed his back into Dave’s chest and leaned his head against his shoulder.

“Dave… please...’ he panted desperately, “I need you. Fuck me!” Humiliation welled up inside Gladio with no outlet. He’d known it would come to this, but there was no way he could have been truly prepared for the blatantly lewd demands that spewed unchecked from his mouth. “I need you to fuck me, please!”

“No one is fucking anyone until I’ve finished explaining. You don’t fully grasp the gravity of this situation.”

Two things surprised Gladio. The first was that Cor had just cursed, something he could not recall ever having heard his mentor do. The second was that Cor had said “until” as in eventually, they really _would_ fuck him. But Gladio didn’t actually _want_ that; hadn’t Cor said he understood that Gladio didn’t _really_ want to have sex with them? Not that either of them were hard on the eyes, but that was far beside the point...

“The pheromone isn’t going to give you a moments peace,” Cor said. “You may manage a few sporadic hours of sleep, but it’s meant to keep you sexually aroused and that’s precisely what it’s going to do. As a man, this poses a serious potential problem.”

Despite the fact that he was attempting to grind his ass against Dave’s crotch, Gladio was intently focusing on what Cor had to say.

“An extended erection, or priapism, can lead to health complications. Left unchecked for longer than a few hours, you could be at risk of a heart attack. Not to mention those ‘few sporadic hours of sleep’ I mentioned will most likely only be possible between orgasms. So, in the interest of preserving your health, we will attend to your urges, to an extent. One of us at a time, and no oral sex, in either direction.”

Cor knelt in front of Gladio and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re a man of dignity, Gladio. I’ll no sooner strip you of that dignity than throw myself into the fires of Ravatogh. Dave and I both only want to see you safely through this.”

Gladio felt the hold on his arms release. He surged forward with a force that almost sent himself and Cor toppling over. He grabbed the collar of Cor’s jacket with both hands and captured Cor’s mouth in a rough kiss that he was sure had far to much teeth involved. A surge shot through him when Cor grunted and opened his mouth, letting Gladio’s tongue dive in.

He heard Dave stand behind him. “Well, while y’all are doin’ that, I’m gonna go back to the truck and make a couple phone calls, let the boys back at HQ know I won’t be back for a few days.”

Once Dave’s footsteps could no longer be heard, Cor wrapped an arm around Gladio’s waist and eased him back on to the sleeping bag, their mouths still locked together.

So this is it, Gladio thought. He was really about to have sex with Cor. His comrade. His friend. His mentor. While his hands moved to Cor’s belt buckle and unfastened the buckle, he tried to will away the fear and the embarrassment. Cor would never shame him, would never hurt him. Cor respected him and would continue to respect him once this nightmare was over. So Gladio ignored his misgivings and instead actively focused on how genuinely _good_ the heat and pressure of Cor’s body felt, how Cor’s hand rubbing gentle circles in the small of his back soothed and relaxed him, how rolling his hips up against Cor and feeling a bulge there provided a friction that was too much and not nearly enough. After all, Gladio enjoyed sex and engaged in it often enough to be comfortable with the idea in general. Though he had never been with a man, he had never been overtly opposed to the thought of it either. The opportunity had simply never presented itself.

Gladio reached inside Cor’s pants and gripped his cock, feeling that the older man was already growing hard. He moaned into Cor’s mouth, and with that moan he released his apprehensions and gave in fully to the overwhelming lust he felt for the man on top of him.

Cor sat up, straddling Gladio’s hips. Gladio Gripped Cor’s thighs and rutted up against him in earnest.

“Dammit Cor, I want you so fucking bad!” That was the most coherent sentence Gladio had managed yet, probably, he reasoned, because he had stopped resisting. He finished unfastening Cor’s pants and licked his lips when the older man’s cock sprang free. It was uncut with a slight upward curve and was an average size, much to Gladio’s relief. He didn’t think he would be able to take anything much bigger, but this… this could actually be good.

“I understand if you’re unable to answer,” Cor said, “but do you have any lotion or ointment that could be used as lubricant?”

Gladio turned his head in the direction of his sleeping chocobo, to which his bag was strapped. There was hand lotion in the front pocket, and Gladio manages a single word in response. “Bag..”

Cor seemed to understand and stood. He carefully approached the bird as not to wake her and luckily found the correct compartment and located the lotion on his first attempt. When Cor returned, he set to work first removing Gladio’s boots, then pulling off his pants and boxers together. The cool air hitting Gladio’s heated cock sent shivers through his body.

The corner of Cor’s lip quirked up in a subtle smirk. “You’ll be warm again soon enough. Relax”

Gladio’s cock twitched in anticipation. The movement made Gladio remember just how _painfully_ hard he really was. He watched intently as Cor shrugged off his jacket, exposing tightly muscled arms that Gladio wanted wrapped around him.

Cor knelt between Gladio’s legs, pushing on his thighs to spread his legs further. He popped the cap of the lotion open and squirted a liberal amount onto his fingers.

“Don’t tease me, just fuck me!”

“I’m going to properly prepare you,” Cor said calmly. “The last thing I want is to hurt you.”

Gladio understood, but was growing more and more desperate with each passing moment. The logical center of his mind was beginning to lose focus. He groaned and bucked his hips up.

Cor wrapped one hand firmly around Gladio’s erection and brought the other to Gladio’s throbbing hole, carefully rubbing a single finger around it but not penetrating yet. Gladio moaned loudly at the contact and again bucked his hips up, effectively fucking into Cor’s hand. Cor began stroking slowly and at the same time slipped one finger inside Gladio.

“AaaAAHH! FUCK! Cor… yes..” Gladio repeated a wanton mantra as Cor stoked and fingered him, gradually picking up pace as he went. It could have easily been seconds or hours (Gladio had no sense of time anymore) before Cor added a second finger!”

“MORE!” Gladio screamed. “I need your cock in me Cor PLEASE!”

Cor slowly slipped his fingers out and released Gladio’s cock. Under any other circumstance, Gladio would have hated himself for the pitiful whine he made at the loss of contact.

“Don’t worry,” Cor reassured him, “I’ve got you.” He lifted Gladio’s legs; Gladio helped by wraping his legs loosely around Cor’s waist. Cor applied more lotion to his hand and stroked himself a few times and lined himself up at Gladio’s entrance. He placed one hand palm down on the ground beside Gladio and eased himself inside.

Gladio’s eyes blew wide and his voice caught in his throat. He couldn’t breath at first, but once Cor was fully settled and he caught his breath, Gladio _screamed_. It was a long, guttural scream like a battle cry that Gladio couldn’t believe came from him.

Cor’s voice was strained when he spoke. “If that was painful, I apologize.” He gripped Gladio’s thigh and began to move, slowly at first, but when Gladio started pushing himself into him, he picked up the pace.

Gladio’s eyes fluttered closed and he gripped Cor’s forearms hard enough that his fingernails dug into Cor’s skin. Fire flowed through him. The intensity of the pleasure quickly overshadowed any pain he’d felt at first penetration. When Cor began to roll his hips into him, the angle changes just enough that Cor’s cock struck Gladio’s prostate. The high pitched, keening that ripped from Gladio’s throat startled Cor, whose eyes snapped open and movements faltered just slightly. But he set himself back on pace easily enough.

“More!” Gladio demanded. “Harder… faster...”

Cor complied and picked up both strength and speed. Even Cor was beginning to lose himself and he threw his head back with a quiet, raspy moan.

The obscene harmony of Gladio’s pleasure cries, Cor’s panting and grunting, and the slap of skin against skin filled the humid air around the haven.

“Cor… Cor, I’m so close,” Gladio warned.

Cor leaned forward, buried his face in the crook of Gladio’s neck, and reached between them to take hold of Gladio’s cock. He pumped the swollen organ out of rhythm, but Gladio was beyond caring.

“Cor, I’m – AH!” Before he could finish his sentence, he came with a short, loud cry, sending stream after seemingly endless stream of while shooting from his cock and covering both of their shirts. His body went rigid as he trembled against the man on top of him and his mouth hung open in a silent scream. It only took a few more thrusts after that for Cor to follow, puling out quickly just seconds before his own release came, and he spilled out onto the rocky ground beneath them.

Cor recovered much more quickly than Gladio. He tucked himself back into his pants and put on his jacket, buttoning it up to cover the white stains.

“I’ll call Dave to bring you a blanket from the truck,” Cor said, but no sooner did he have his phone in his hands than Dave climbed up the rocks and onto the haven.

“I, uh, heard you finish and figured it was safe to head back,” Dave said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. Sure enough, he had even brought a blanket, which he draped over Gladio’s bare lower half. “I talked to my mother, and she told me something that might be useful. It’s no guarantee, but my aunt might have something that could help Gladio.”  
  
“Your aunt?” Cor asked.

“Yeah. She’s got a shack quite a ways south of here in the Malmalam Thicket. She’s...” Dave hesitated, “she’s a potion brewer.”

“Wait, Malmalam Thicket? The old woman they call the ‘Witch of the Wood’ is your aunt?”  
  
Dave nodded. “One and the same. Like I said, it’s probably a long shot, but if anyone can help him, it’s her.”

Cor hummed thoughtfully. “It’s worth a try. However, there’s no safe way to take him into the woods in his current condition.”

Dave pulled a worn map from his inner jacket pocket. He opened it up, drawing a line with his finger from their location south, stopping at Ravatogh Outpost. “There’s a caravan here, ‘bout halfway between the Vesperpool and the wit– I mean my aunt’s place,” Dave pointed out to Cor. “There’s a guy there I trust to keep an eye on him long enough for us to get there and back.”

Cor nodded in agreement. “It’s worth the trip. We can’t stay here anyway, so we might as well try your plan.” He sighed and looked down at Gladio, who was close to drifting off to sleep. “I hope for his sake it works.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments give me more joy than you could ever imagine, and I promise to reply to all of them!


End file.
